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User blog:Waspinator1998/Unbroken: Slaughtered, Part One - REMINISCENCE
---- Listen, kid, the Fall of Namine wasn’t anything to be taken lightly. You want my side? Fine. Just be warned, I’m not sugarcoating it. Any of it. Anyone with the ineptitude to walk directly to a survivor and ask such an abrasive question as “how bad was the Fall of Namine?” deserves to have nightmares as bad as mine whenever someone even brings up the subject. The Corruption. I find myself wondering what would have happened if those bastards didn't invite themselves onto our doorstep. If we had been able to predict their onslaught, the horror that had found its way to Namine, and consequently, the galaxy. If we had some sort of warning. If we were prepared. But I suppose I'm getting ahead of myself. The Fall of Namine was a bleak day. It was for all of us. Despite my petty hopes, no one in the known universe could have predicted the Corruption. Namine paid the ultimate price to let the galaxy know that the Corruption had arrived--to buy them some time to prepare. The other Waspcaela Empire colonies remained relatively intact, despite being constantly on guard since that fateful day in 2110. Earth knew they were coming. The Humans built some powered armor--some pretty damn primitive and clunky armor, at that--to fend them off. It worked. The Corruption fucked with Earth and got their noses bloodied. The only problem with bloodying a brute's nose, though, is that you'll probably lose a limb in the process. Those suits the Humans made polluted their atmosphere to hell. Really, they finished what the Waspcaela Empire started to do to them back in the Second Terran War: ruin Earth. Poor planet. Don't you just hate it when you kill one demon and summon another in the process? In any case, I'm trailing off. I digress. Like any...bereaved citizen of Namine, I could tell you just where I was when the attacks started. Many citizens had the good fortune of being some distance away from the pylon when it began to attract the Corruption. I was not one of those citizens. I was a mechanic on the pylon's barge, somewhere far in the center of the Xanthros Ocean. I made sure the rotors kept rotating, the gyroscopes kept...er, gyro-tating...or something like that, and the pylon got a constant feed of power. This all meant that I was deep within the bowels of the barge, in a massive Rekartium bunker far beneath the waves. I suppose it was somewhat calm, my fortress of solitude; the soft echo of the all-engulfing water outside of the bunker was easing, and the warm glow of the core was just about enough to make me nod off. Do you know what wasn't enough to make me nod off? Loud noises and violent vibrations. Did I say “vibrations?” “Shaking” would be more accurate. Actually, “quaking.” This quaking was much more important than I realized. I jolted up, hoping it was just Namine’s tectonic plates at work. It wouldn’t be the first time. But no. No, no, no, no. This was the start of something worse. I trembled with the station as a shrill beep came over the intercom, signifying that our station-board AI was about to make an announcement: “Code 753. Code 753. Prepare for defensive configuration. Prepare for defensive configuration.” An attack, it was. By who? Would they not have specified? In any case, I had a job to do. I powered down the rotors, gyroscopes, and the like, and set their configurations to “defensive” through the console. Powering everything back on, I braced myself as the station shifted. I could feel the movement on my comparatively low level as towers on the upper deck folded open to reveal pulse bombardment arrays--large anti-aircraft cannons designed specifically to take down the bitchiest of the galaxy’s sons of bitches. The barge rocked and shook as the cannons went off, firing at…something. Clearly, an attack on one of the most valuable assets the Empire currently has isn’t something that happens every day. Those stuffy bureaucrats at NGC were probably having successive heart attacks. I was curious. Who wouldn’t be? I clambered into the lift and hit the up button--taking the thing as far up as it would go without being exposed to the chaos on the deck. When my elevator stopped, I was approached by two hulking brutes of guardsmen. “Stop right there, engineer,” one of them threw out. “With an attack underway, this is a restricted area. Return to your station immediately.” I cursed under my breath. “Listen, buddy, I think I have a bit of a right to know what’s going on here, what with being trapped on this station with the rest of you." “You listen to me, ‘buddy,” The other guard retorted. “We have no idea what’s out there. Some new kind of ships. Reports we sent to NGC match nothing we’ve encountered before. They seem to be going down easily, but there’s a whole swarm of them. It’s simply too damn dangerous to be up here, okay? Go back to your fucking-“ The shell-breathed gentleman I was talking to was cut off by an explosion…and by “cut off,” I really mean “blown away”. And by “blown away,” I mean “blown apart.” In his stead, was fire; twisted metal that was a crater’s doorway. Through the hole laid a ship--an almost teardrop-shaped vessel of an almost midnight shade of black. The darkness was broken by strips of red metal. The ship was covered in large, hull-tearing spikes that ripped straight through this installation’s refined Rekartium hull, allowing it to enter like a wretched parasite. A leech. An exploding leech. The ship exploded as I took cover, spewing shrapnel in every direction and taking down many who survived the initial blast. Beyond shrapnel, the vessel scattered large pods--some eight feet long, others shorter, others very wide. I looked at one of the gleaming black pods. Something stirred within it. Something evil. Something sinister. Something of pure hate. Something corrupt. The hatch of the pod shot open, hitting the roof and falling down. The creature emerged from its temporary sepulcher, with the front two of the creature’s four legs resting on the front of the pod. I gazed at its form. It was about the size of a large canine. Its leathery black hide had cracks and fissures on it, from which emanated a hazy purple glow. The spikes running down its back ran to its tail, ending in a spiked tip. Its razor-sharp talons accompanied an almost featureless head--featureless, I thought, until it caught sight of me. Its ovaline, sleek, chitinous-looking head reared at me, and let out a thunderous roar. The entirety of the monster’s cranium split into eight spikes to reveal three-pronged mandibles hiding within. Its imposing form pounced out of the pod and on to the metal floor. It circled me, sizing me up. I could do nothing but gawk in awe and fear at the creature. It was like nothing I’d ever seen. It embodied the poison of deceit, the ferocity of hatred, the cunning of betrayal, and the corrupt pureness of evil--all in one shapely predatory form. This monster was the first to make a move. It charged at me, leaving claw marks on the floor and scratching walls with its tail. I jumped up, using my wings to throw myself over it. It ran headfirst into the wall behind where I was formerly standing, dazing itself as I landed behind it. As it recovered, I fumbled for my Pulse Pistol. Unsheathing my weapon, I took aim at the beast and opened fire. The blasts hissed into its carapace, burning and rending it--yet this was not enough. It screeched in agony and turned to face me, ready to unleash a violent firestorm of fury. It pounced once more, and I met its advance with my knife. It went deep into the flesh, causing greenish blood to spew everywhere. I grimaced as I was covered in its alien plasma. It swinged and slashed frantically, attempting to break free. I granted its wish and put my foot to its belly, kicking it off and watching as a stream of blood followed its decent. The wounded demon was yet alive, however. This time, it sprinted at me and swerved its hind legs to the left as it kept its forward legs moving onward, sending its rear section swinging at my own legs like a flail. I tripped and fell, watching in horror as the creature’s spikes tore through my exoskeleton. My blood gushed, and I retracted my limb. I was too late; the monster pounced on top of me and opened its jaws, advancing towards my head. I grabbed two of its outer mandibles and pulled them away from each other as hard as I could-- pushing them away from my ever-so-beautiful face as well. The creature’s head thrashed around in an attempt for reprieve, buy my steady grip would not allow this. Unrelenting, I stuck to my methods. As I felt its grip weakening, I very swiftly let one of its mandibles free and unsheathed my Pulse Pistol once more. I stuck the barrel into its maw and pulled the trigger, bearing witness as its cephalized end exploded like a Xandu fruit. Its body grew ever limper, and fell off of me. I kicked it to the side with my good leg. There I lied in a pool of my blood, as well as that of the monster’s. Breathing heavily, I closed my eye and began to fade out. Fading… Fading… Fading… Category:Blog posts